


Love the Enemy

by cebw12



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Blood, F/F, Knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7228327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cebw12/pseuds/cebw12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel only saves Sarah to feel her suffer, to scream that she hates her. Rachel saves her to create an enemy, but Sarah refuses to play along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love the Enemy

Sarah felt the shudder of her body as she gasped for breath. But this time, she wasn't going to give Rachel the satisfaction. She would not cry for help.

Rachel's pinned-up smile began to fail when Sarah's eyes fluttered, and she let go of her throat, extending her fingers as if they were sore.

Sarah choked as the air burst into her lungs, gripping the bed sheets until the dots stopped spinning in front of her eyes.

"I don't want to fight you, Rachel, I-"

Rachel interrupted her with a slap across the face, and she couldn't hold back the sharp cry that came out.

"This isn't you!" She was desperate, suffocating, trying to pin down something in Rachel's eyes that would make her human again, "you're one of us."

Rachel met her eyes, tipped her head to the side, "I'm afraid i'm not," Sarah's whole body jolted as Rachel ran her fingers over her bandaged thigh, "I never was one of you."

And with that, she dug her fingers in, and Sarah yelped like a wounded animal, too lame to run.

Pain wrenched at her stomach and she ground her teeth, barely able to make words come out in hopeless breaths, "Why are you doing this?"

Rachel laughed and pressed again, and this time Sarah's agony was a silent, twisting pain, yanking her back away from the sheets.

Then, she stood abruptly, turning away from the animal she trusted was too wounded to crawl away. She made her way to the counter ( _walked_  would not be the right way to describe this), and ran her fingertips over the marble. She settled on a glass of wine, rich and blood red, and she drank it, eyes trained on Sarah.

"We can- we can fix this," reaching into empty air, what could she fix? Rachel?

No, Rachel was too far gone. But she could mend her family, she could walk away and never look back, she could leave Rachel here to her own devices.

"Why don't you stop trying, Sarah?" She circled the glass of wine, "you've already lost."

"This was never between us," Sarah spat, and then she felt the heat of her heart ripping and tumbling when Rachel pulled a kitchen knife from the block, inspecting the way the light caught the blade, curiously.

Rachel crouched over her, and suddenly Sarah felt like one of her toys, like a Paul or a Ferdinand, and she wondered if this was Rachel's usual agenda. Had she threatened their families, put a knife in their leg, and kept them as a pretty thing to look at? A pretty thing to break.

Rachel was dragging the blade over Sarah's jaw, neck, chest, just lightly enough that she could feel cold metal.

"Don't you want to go see your family? Tell me..." she pressed the blade closer, and Sarah tightened every muscle in her body to try to stop from shaking, from gutting herself, "what would you do to leave this place?"

Sarah took a few shaking breaths, and leaned forward just so the knife pressed into the skin of her neck, but didn't cut. "I told you, Rachel," she snarled from closed teeth, "I'm not going to fight you."

It happened fast then, because Sarah was twisting something in Rachel when she just _gave in_. Rachel flicked her hand and there was a _slice_ noise, and Sarah held her breath for a moment, waiting to feel all of her life pour out of her throat.

It didn't.

Rachel watched the trickle of blood from the half-inch cut she had made, down her throat, collecting at her collarbone. Sarah was shaking back and forth now, she had lost every ounce of physical control, and maybe she was crying, too.

It was good enough. She put the knife away. It was good enough. Sarah would learn to hate her another day.

**Author's Note:**

> When you've given up the sun  
> And your heart is awful empty  
> Well the best is yet to come  
> Love the enemy
> 
> Crueler Kind - San Fermin


End file.
